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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134583">Missed shot</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingBishop/pseuds/BleedingBishop'>BleedingBishop</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Hogwarts AU [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Gen, Quidditch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:48:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134583</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingBishop/pseuds/BleedingBishop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff"><p>I feel like I want to do a follow-up, maybe after tryouts, maybe not? I feel I could milk something out of this</p></div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mycroft Holmes &amp; Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Hogwarts AU [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/73069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Missed shot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What on earth is Mycroft doing here?”</p><p>The second year from the golden house has sat down in the row of applicants for the Hufflepuff team about 10 minutes ago and had yet to look up from his knees since.</p><p>“Oh come on, let him have a go, what's the harm? Probably the first time he’s even seen the quidditch pitch, the quiet little guy must’ve had to ask for directions.” Greg chuckled quietly from his place on the sidelines of the pitch. </p><p>Captain Gregory Lestrade was a quidditch nut. Rightfully so, with how hard he trained his squad in his position as leader and Chaser, but Hufflepuff had yet to take a loss with a bigger difference than 60 points since his promotion last year.<br/>
His addition of the now graduated Kitty Riley as Seeker last year certainly helped, Kitty having a nose for gossip as sharp as her recognising that darting little sphere that won them three games in a row.</p><p>Greg sighed quietly as his two other chasers cheerfully patted the shoulder of a second year who most certainly wouldn’t be making the cut as the keeper they were looking for. As had Kitty graduated, Henry Knight had now graduated his Keeper position and schooling, and had moved on to his large family estate in Devon. </p><p>Greg had been invited to stay with Henry over christmas this year, and after Greg had the pleasure of visiting the beautiful home for a long weekend over the summer, he was already excited.</p><p>If he was desperate for Henry to not have to spend Christmas alone in that big, beautiful, empty house, then that was his business.</p><p>The lineup for Keeper tryouts was getting shorter and shorter, and while Greg certainly had a shortlist, there was no stand out student as of yet. </p><p>‘What I wouldn’t have given for Hooper to be a ‘Puff.’ Greg thought as a third year panicked in the air, and let through her fourth quaffle.<br/>
Molly Hooper was a star for Ravenclaw, picked up the minute she entered second year and had been blocking his shots for the three years since. </p><p>Hoopers have been Ravenclaws since the turn of the Century, but still, a man could hope.</p><p>Mycroft, now only two people away from his own attempt for the team, looked like he was slowly approaching his own funeral.</p><p>Greg was distracted from him by a spectacular save from the second year in the sky called Ella, a neat curve around the front of the central goal to catch the quickly tossed quaffle from one of the chasers; then Ella threw it immediately down to the other, playing as a team mate as opposed to the ‘opponent’ who threw it at her.</p><p>Ella continued to make a fair challenge out of the two other chasers, and Greg happily added her to his shortlist. Greg turned back to the last two on the benches and motioned for the last girl to get herself ready for her try.</p><p>Mycroft sat by himself, grey as a storm and hands curled into fists like he was about to fight for his life. Ella by now was being guided back to terra firma by Frank and Joe, his chasers, and the three were throwing opinions and advice at each other like it was a challenge, so Greg strided over to his final try out.</p><p>“Mycroft, right?”</p><p>The boy must have been so deep in his head that Greg’s voice gave him such a start he hiccuped.</p><p>“Yes. Holmes, Mycroft Holmes.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you,” Greg reached out over the barrier and held out his hand “, Greg Lestrade.”</p><p>Greg felt a swell of good humour and pity at the sweaty palm on his own.</p><p>“So you’re new to the game; played quidditch before?” Mycroft’s pose, head down, thighs pressed tightly together and the tension he shook with, made him look like he could vibrate out of his skin.</p><p>“No, muggleborn, you see.”</p><p>“Really? Hm, you don’t seem the type. So, did you enjoy your provisional broom skills in first year?”</p><p>“Not as much as others in my year, but I passed with no faults.”</p><p>“... Look, you look like you’re about to walk to your open grave, if it's just nerves I can promise you the boys are just going to check your skills, they’re not going to judge you for any fault you think you’ve got.”</p><p>“I… yes, just nerves. Thank you, Captain. Very kind of you.”<br/>
The tone was empty, and Greg left him to his obviously not settled thoughts. </p><p>The penultimate tryout had been in the air for enough time to see she was also good enough for the shortlist, but it was a close thing. Greg put her on the ‘no’ column. </p><p>“Mycroft, your turn.” Gerg called over his shoulder. That same hiccup echoed in reply, before a skuttle of the boy leaving the seats. </p><p>The school brooms were ‘well loved’, and the awkwardness from Mycroft holding it like he didn’t know which end to hold made it look shoddy.</p><p>Greg thanked and nodded to the girl who passed him the broom she tried out on, and motioned for Mycroft to ascend.</p><p>“You can start, I’ll follow you up as you’re the last.” Greg smiled, and watched Mycroft jerkily nod and clambered over the stick. </p><p>Suddenly, he was off like a rocket, from one breath to the next he was on the grass then up in the air and blurring towards the goal posts. </p><p>The clipboard Greg held fell to the floor, thudding against the grass and Greg began violently swearing and threw himself over the broom and after him.</p><p>The two came to a head in front of the goals, quickly followed by Frank and Joe into the air.</p><p>“What the fuck Holmes, was there any need to fly like that? Don’t piss about like that!” Greg barked. </p><p>“Pardon? What?” Mycroft was shocked, confused more than offended and looking daft as his eyes darted manically around Greg to figure out how he had gone wrong so soon in the test.</p><p>“Why did you speed off like that? You’re lucky I haven’t already dragged you to the floor, flying like you want to kill yourself. Well?” </p><p>“W-well, that's the point, isn't it? Quickly flying and grabbing the small gold ball? I - I don’t get all the rules, yet, but I’m sure I will pick it up quickly.” Earnest and awkward - could the boy be anything but awkward - Greg felt like the remaining adrenaline was making his thought processes skip like a record.</p><p>“What? No, that’s not right, just, just land, okay? SLOWLY!” Greg growled, and the quartet slowly descended from the hoops. </p><p>They carefully landed, and Greg quickly pinched the broom from Mycroft’s hand and passed them both to Frank, who juggled the two school brooms along his own before leaning them both against the barrier. Greg motioned for he and Joe to go back to the changing rooms - there would be no more try outs today.</p><p>He turned back to the second year with a firm frown.</p><p>“Right, explain. Fully, yeah?”</p><p>“W-Well, James, a third year in Slytherin, has said he was trying out for the Slytherin team, and he said he was going to try out for, I think it was keeper? And he said I had such focus, I should try out as well, for my own house, obviously. James hasn’t had the time to show me what each player does, he’s focused on his own tryouts, so I asked him what the roll was and if he knew when Hufflepuff tried out…” Mycroft swallowed, a sour expression on his face.</p><p>“I haven’t even seen a game, you understand - last year I was so panicked of failing and falling behind on my studies behind, you know, real wizards, that I spent all the time everyone went to a match reading ahead, trying to catch up with what everyone else seemed to understand already. That's why James said I had to try out, said every wizard knows about Quidditch, and I won't be a real wizard until I at least know how to play.”</p><p>Throughout this, Greg had now folded his arms across his chest, the language was pitiful, sad and as, yes, awkward as the young man who declared it.</p><p>“Listen, that's a lot, let's be honest, but your James-” Mycroft’s eyes went wide, cheeks red as anything.</p><p>“Oh, no he’s not m-my James, he’s just a friend.”</p><p>“Grand; your James was talking about a Seeker, not a Keeper. Did it not seem strange to you that none of the other guys were chasing after the snitch- the gold ball, but taking shots keeping the Quaffel out of the hoops?”</p><p>Mycroft frowned, the first time his face had expressed anything other than surprise and pants wetting terror.</p><p>“Did I not just say I didn’t know what it even is?”</p><p>“Then why are you even here!?” Greg barked</p><p>“Because I’m on my own! Because I’m quick on a broom and James wont tell me how to fit in, beyond piecemeal phrases so I’m trying my best! Because I’m good at spotting things out of place, Lestrade, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered to embarrass myself in public!”</p><p>They glared at each other, Mycroft’s eyes far more emotional, before Greg growled, looked away and then back to the younger student.</p><p>“We are walking back to the castle. You’re going to the library and checking out as many quidditch books as you can read this week. Then you’re coming back next sunday and trying out for Seeker with the rest of them. Quidditch comes first in my team, so you better get reading those books before you do anything in your free time. You come to try outs on Sunday fully understanding that, if you’re as good as you stake your life threatening flying on, Quidditch and our team come first. Understand?”</p><p>“Yes, Captain.”</p><p>“I’m not your Captain yet, Holmes.”</p><p>“You will be. I want our team, so you will be.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I feel like I want to do a follow-up, maybe after tryouts, maybe not? I feel I could milk something out of this</p></blockquote></div></div>
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